Glimpse
by Anamin
Summary: One bathroom in that big old house? What could possibly happen. Tame. Comical. T rating if that, some imagery.


_A/N: This takes place at some point within S3 where Jean and Lucien are v. comfortable with each other. The usual spoilers and disclaimers that the characters are not mine apply. Plz keep in mind it's still the late 50's and Ballarat is a bit backward, so. Also, based on Lucien's behavior from 4x4._

Glimpse

Lucien meandered into the bathroom and prepared for a soak. What a bloody awful night! He turned on the water and let it run, the bath filling. Steam filled the room, relaxing him and his weary mind.

Matthew had been shouting at him again, just for doing his job, and of course someone was now dead or he would be out of the police business. Just unpleasant all around. Jean was already up and dressed, looking her usual, smashing, tempting, tantalizing, but just-out-of-reach self. He longed to know all the lines and planes and curves of her. He wanted to take a fist full of those pin curls and kiss her until he couldn't breathe, letting her take all the pain away, since the first day her mesmerizing eyes met his, really. Work continually seemed to get in the way, however. Perhaps he ought to make this a cold bath. . .

But of course, he smelled like stale whiskey and cigarettes. He had given up the habit, but at times like these, it was ALWAYS easy to fall in to it again. Jean nipped at him so when she found out. 'Did he know how _hard_ it was to get cigarette smoke out of wool?' Yes, Jean, he knew, he wanted to answer some days, but he never said it, like he never said so many other things on his mind. As was his wont, he had stayed up pondering the events of the previous day. Another family missing another family member over something petty. Didn't these kids know war? There were things worth dying for, he knew. The reasons these people died did not always make sense to him post-war. Wearily, he undressed.

Jean wandered about her usual business. Extra tea this morning to help keep her going. But wouldn't it just happen that it wanted back out _now_? Unfortunately, that's just when she heard upstairs taps begin to run. As it was Saturday, Charlie was already off with friends and Mattie was rostered on this weekend.

Lucien had been up rather late . . . so he must be ready to shed the consistent 3-piece suit that seemed to be his uniform. Not that she minded. A man in a well-pressed suit was quite a lovely thing to behold. When he took off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves . . . well, she didn't mind that either. Jean worked some more, hoping to take her mind off Nature's insistent calling. She thought about all the washing and pressing it took to keep Lucien looking as professional as he should. Sleeping in those suits could ruin them. Just once (once?) she wanted to snuggle up next to him and comfort him from all the pain he held inside. She hoped night after night he would actually sit next to her on the sofa while she knitted and he read the paper. She wanted to just lean into his strong embrace and forget all the trauma of the world.

She supposed it would be rather hard to put all the traumatizing events he had experienced behind him. Including some of the ones they shared. It was all she could do not to kiss him good-bye when he left as she did Christopher, their manner was so easy now. But then he kept putting himself in bloody danger! Would she see him again once he walked out the door? She argued with herself that life was short, and she ought to do it at least once, just to see what he would do. That would most certainly get his attention.

Lucien lowered himself gently into the just too hot water. He continued to ponder the case. He didn't have a lot of time to just stop. Usually, there was one thing after another going on. He told himself to finally put it to bed. Done was done. Matthew told him not to stop by the station today. Instead, he let his mind return to Jean. He was surprised she didn't have a gentleman friend. She deserved to be taken care of. Though that fellow from the play seemed promising, didn't he? That was the rare night he came home and Jean, instead of tending the house, was having a *bit* more sherry than was usual for her normal activities. That chap never came round again for some reason. He was glad. Life without his Jean was simply imponderable. The heat of the water began to relax his tired and sore body and Lucien found himself dozing.

Jean had managed to not think about liquid in any form, but now things were becoming must. It had been the better part of an hour. Jean was all for a good soak, but there were other members of this household. Noiselessly, she crept upstairs. The door to the bathroom was opened just a crack, Lucien's tan, firm chest seemed to float on its own above the bath water. Jean blushed self-consciously. She been with men before, but not this particular one, the object of her desire, and he was causing a _great_ deal of desire like this.

He was very fit for his age. She was so used to seeing him in his suits, she never stop to think what was _under_ them. His arm was draped over the side of the tub in a near perfect tableau of The Death of Marat, only Lucien's head was tilted back in full relaxation , dozing. He was rather like a puppy in that respect. Very carefree. His biceps were well-formed. The soapy water blocked her gaze from glimpsing anything past his waist, though she had to admit she was curious about that, too. Who, after living with someone for several years under the same roof, would not be? She tried to chide herself for having these thoughts, but she missed certain things since Christopher's death. There was nothing wrong with having an active imagination.

She had the very strong desire to go in and wake him, in fact she should or there would be a mess for her to clean. She quickly found a spot on the old wood floor she knew was creaky and walked over it a couple of times, making the old wood sing.

To her satisfaction, she heard a gentle sloshing of water coming from the bath indicating movement on Lucien's part.

"Jean?" Lucien called, "I hate to ask, but it seems I've, um . . . forgotten a towel, would you mind leaving one outside the door?"

She positioned herself a bit further down the hallway (as he didn't know she was right there) and called back, "Just a moment! If you are through, I need to get in there!"

She wandered back to the linen closet and grabbed a bath towel (freshly pressed) from the linen closet and dropped at the door, neatly folded.

"It's, um, just here," she said through the door.

"Thank you," came his muffled response.

Suddenly, several things happened at once. Mattie came through the front door and called for Lucien that Matthew needed him down at the station. Just now? Jean froze, Mattie didn't know she was up there. This might be a scandal. Maybe if she didn't move, she wouldn't be noticed. Down the hall from her, the bathroom door opened and Lucien's arm came through the opening in the door to grab the towel and was quickly shut again. Then he came out in merely the towel, to reply to Mattie not realizing that Jean was still standing there. He stopped short, looking the proverbial deer in headlights. Jean remained where she was, trying to compute several things crossing her brain at one time. Lucien in nearly all his tan, chiseled, and glistening glory, the inappropriateness of the entire situation and trying to control her reactions all at once. Then she decided to just be sensible about things. They were all adults, right? Swiftly, she stiffened her back, lifted her chin, and moved past Lucien and headed down the stairs to the kitchen. Mattie gave her an inquiring look, but said nothing.

"The Doctor will come around the station soonest," Jean excused him.

Message passed on, Mattie nodded went back out the door to her duties.

Jean went to the sink, taking a very long time to just wash Lucien's whiskey tumbler from the night before, waiting for any sort of reaction. She heard him come down the stairs to his room, to finish dressing, and head back out to the station. There was probably going to be a conversation later, but for now, she was happy to go on as though everything were normal. He left without a fuss, and without a word about the incident. If she didn't know better, she'd say he were avoiding the topic. For the present she went upstairs to take care of Nature's business and get some relief.

Lucien was still away for lunch. Matthew's revelation must have been important.

Lucien did make it back for dinner, but it too came and went, with simple discussions about work and what went on during the day, neighborly and town gossip, and etc.

Mattie excused herself, and Charlie phoned to say that he was going to stay overnight in Melbourne. Lucien continued to read the paper, still acting as though he were avoiding her, even though he was right there in plain sight.

Jean didn't know how to bring up the subject and finally, as the evening wore on, went upstairs to get ready for bed.

Just when the last button of her pajama top had done up, she heard a soft knock at the door. Thank goodness, because who knew what sort of dreams she was going to have. Now they could finally, finally talk about the events of this morning.

"Jean, are you in awake?" ever polite.

"Yes, I'm up. Come in, do."

Lucien was in his blue dressing gown with the Chinese pattern on it. Lovely thing. It quite matched his eyes in this light. He came in and seated himself at the vanity. Jean sitting on the edge of the bed.

"About this morning-"

"Ah, say no more. I will just put it behind me." Jean attempted to play the eve- practical, though she knew subconsciously, it was a more than glad it happened.

"Still I felt something should be said. I didn't realize you were still in the hallway and everything happened so fast and I wasn't quite sure how to bring it up. I just didn't want to have any awkwardness." His tone was apologetic, "I suppose I should have said something before the end of the day, but I spent the time quite thinking how to go about saying the appropriate words."

"Lucien, it's ok. We're both adults. I know things happened very quickly this morning, as they do around here. When one lives under this roof, you learn to adapt with the happenings."

"Mattie didn't say anything, did she?"

"Mattie? No. Why?"

"I'm just not sure what she may have seen or thought. If Matthew has a lead, I like to follow it up right away, and of course with neighbors already talking . . ." he trailed off, his thoughts becoming his own.

"Oh tish-tosh the neighbors! No worries, Lucien. It's your house, you don't have to apologize to me." She wanted to follow up with the fact she quite enjoyed the view, but couldn't quite bring herself to say it. She might not get another opportunity to say it though. She argued mentally with herself and Lucien continued.

"I just wanted you to feel comfortable, you do so much around here. It is appreciated, I wanted you to know that. I realize it's not said enough."

"Thank you, Lucien. It is good to hear," she smiled.

"Well, it _has_ been a rather long day, so I will say Goodnight." Lucien dismissed himself and got up to leave and Jean responded with 'Goodnight' in kind.

It had been a rather long day. She tucked herself into bed, glad to have the air cleared, about the awkward, and potentially scandalous incident. She was also happy to hear the tone of gratitude come from him. She knew she was appreciated, but it was always good to hear it said out loud.

She decided that it was now time for lights out and laid in bed. Hoping her dreams would be similar to some of the reality she experienced today.

-FIN-


End file.
